A Handful of Dust
by Elphie Lives
Summary: Sparks fly when our esteemed Potions Master is forced to spend time with Dumbledore's stubborn, antisocial niece.Takes place from the end of GOF through DH. Please RR!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own - I just rent!

A Polite Demand

Abigail Dumbledore was not the most sociable of witches. She preferred the company of the plants in her greenhouse, the ingredients in her potions cabinet, and the occasional query from St. Mungo's. Visitors did not typically darken the doorway of her little house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, except for her father and her uncle, whom she was presently expecting.

Every year, her Uncle Albus requested that she take the position of Mediwitch at Hogwarts School and every year she turned him down. He would try to plead his case that Poppy desperately wanted to retire, but she knew he really wanted her out of the house and close by him.

The soft chiming of her doorbell broke Abigail out of her thoughts and she rushed to answer it. She opened the door, smiling at the sight of her slightly dotty uncle.

"Good evening, poppet. Do you have a cup of tea for an old man?," he asked, his blue eyes twinkling over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

"Hello, Uncle Albus."

Dumbledore entered into her small kitchen and sat down at the table. Abigail bustled about, starting the kettle boiling with a sharp flick of her wand.

"You were always excellent at wandless magic. Just like your mother.," he said softly. Abigail turned and smirked. "Trying to butter me up, old man? You know it won't work. I'm not going to Hogwarts. By the by, is Poppy aware you're trying to give her job away?"

He was silent for a moment, regarding her solemnly. "No, I am not here to ask that of you poppet. I have a much different request to ask of you today."

Abigail chuckled and set down her tea service on the table. She sat down next to him and began to pour. "A request? I'll just say no. Would you like sugar?"

Albus nodded, held up two fingers and watched as she placed the sugar cubes in his cup. "You haven't heard my request yet.," he said, mirth tingeing his words.

"True, true. I suppose I should indulge you, old man. Very well, Uncle - what is your request?," Abigail gazed at him, her chin resting on her hand.

Albus smiled. "It amazes me that someone like my brother could produce a child as lovely as you."

"Kissing up again?"

"I believe in prefacing any request with a compliment. Cushions the blow."

"Manipulative as ever. No wonder Dad doesn't spend any time with you.," She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

He raised one eyebrow and looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "Be that as it may, my dear, my time is limited. I need you to provide asylum for someone. Your father has informed you of recent events?"

A sigh escaped Abigail's lips. Her eyes gained a faraway look, and when she spoke next, her voice did not sound like her own. "I know of his return. I expected it."

Her reticent expression garnered a sympathetic glance from Dumbledore. "I have sent someone back into the snake den, as it were, and he will need someplace to recuperate from time to time. It is dangerous work I ask of him, and since you are the most talented Healer that I have had the pleasure of being acquainted with, I though you would be up to the task."

"Whom shall I be protecting?"

"Severus Snape."

Abigail's eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name, but otherwise her face did not show any emotion. "My old Potions Master? Isn't he a Death Eater?"

"Not anymore, poppet. Abigail, he is doing this at great personal risk to himself. Spying is never easy. The most I could do is provide him with help.," he answered.

"How do you know he's doing this for you? He could have been biding his time all these years - waiting for his return - believing you foolish enough to send him back with nary an objection.," Abigail was beginning to become exasperated and all the pleasantness was seeping out of the visit like air from a balloon.

Albus could tell that Abigail's inherent stubbornness was steadily creeping in and he fully intended to cut her off at the pass. "I have complete faith in him. He will need care and attention badly after his meetings. They can be quite┘draining.," He paused for a moment. "Poppet, this isn't a request. Think of it as a ┘polite demand. I need your help and I am calling in all favors - even those grudgingly given. I intend to end this war, once and for all."

She stared at him for several minutes. When she next spoke, there was a depth to her voice that had not been there before. "Say I agree to your┘polite demand. How much of my hard earned peace will I be giving up?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face and was quickly gone. "You know, young Severus said much the same when I broached the idea with him."

"Bully for him. You didn't answer my question."

"Once a week at the most."

"WHAT?!," she thundered, her eyes wide and a tinge of red flushing her cheeks.

Albus sipped his tea calmly and responded. "I quite expected you to throw something."

Abigail could not sustain her anger in the face of his placid calm and quickly deflated. "Very funny, old man."

Minutes passed by, the silence pressing down like a heavy weight.

"Well, poppet, do I get a response?," Dumbledore asked mildly, but the look in his eyes was stern.

Abigail sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"No."

She laughed ruefully. "I didn't think so. Just as well. It's not like I'll have to talk to him."

"Indeed."

Abigail picked up the remains of tea and carried it to the counter. She opened her mouth to respond, but when she turned around, Albus was gone.

Just as well.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying the story. If there is anyone out there who would like beta and correct my cough numerous cough grammatical errors for me, I would be much obliged!

Disclaimer: I don't own - can't afford to!

An Unwelcome Guest

Severus Snape was not enthused with the idea that he would essentially be under a nurse's care. He argued vehemently with Dumbledore over his decision, and was quite unwillingly forced into the situation by heavy guilt.

Albus Dumbledore was more skilled at heavy guilt than the most overbearing of mothers.

Through this chain of events, he found himself standing on the front step of a tiny house outside of Hogsmeade with his hand poised to knock on the door. If this situation was to work, he supposed the two of them should get to know one another - however unpleasant the idea was to him. He barely remembered the girl he used to instruct at Hogwarts. Her potion skills had been┘adequate, but otherwise, his memory was hazy. He had been haunted the night before by visions of a slightly demented white haired witch that smelled of goats.

He rapped on the door, and was pleasantly surprised when the door opened. She looked quite mussed, with her hair piled messily on top of her head and her forehead beaded with sweat. But her hair was an attractive shade of brownish-red (leaf brown, he had heard it called once) and her round spectacles framed a pair of dark blue eyes that shown with intelligence. Severus thought her quite lovely, until she opened her mouth.

"What in the bloody blazes do you want?" she snapped, looking at him angrily.

Severus' eyes narrowed and a sneer curled his lips. "I suppose no one ever taught you any manners."

She raised her left eyebrow slightly and stared at him like he had just sprouted two heads. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was be kind to bats week. Now, is there something I can help you with? I'm really very busy," she replied disdainfully.

For one of the few times in his life, Severus stammered. "I th-thought that with s-situations being what they are, we might want to discuss our┘arrangement."

She sighed heavily and gestured with her hand. "Alright, come in. Just don't make it sound like Uncle Albus bought me for your birthday present," she spoke with great exasperation. Severus stared at her in astonishment. He had no idea how utterly nasty this woman was - the Dark Lord would do well to recruit her!

Just then, he was yanked quite forcibly out of his thoughts as she grabbed the sleeve of his robes and pulled him inside. Muttering something about letting out all of the bought air, she made her way into the kitchen. Severus followed her with great trepidation and watched as she flung herself ungracefully into a chair.

"You can sit. I'm sorry I don't have a post for you to hang upside down from," she said. Snape gave her a look of pure loathing and settled down in the chair opposite from her.

He was beginning to dislike Abigail Dumbledore exceedingly. "Must you preface every comment with an insult?" he hissed.

Abigail looked shocked. "I thought that was pretty much par for the course with you"  
"Pardon?"

"Never mind. Look, I'm not the biggest fan of this set-up. I don't like company," Severus snorted at this comment and earned another raised eyebrow from Abigail. She stared at him steadily for a moment, then continued. "Uncle Albus has a tendency to lay it on so thick that even I can't say no. So, let's get the particulars out of the way. I'll enchant the wards to recognize you, so you can come and go as you please. If you're injured, I'll make you feel better than you did before you went to your little┘meeting. I have a spare bedroom if you are too exhausted to go home, but don't take that as an open invitation. Agreed?" Abigail spoke at a rapid fire pace, then leaned back in her chair when she had finished.

Severus considered her for a moment, then spoke. "Agreed."

A broad smile broke across Abigail's face. "Excellent. Now get out before the potion I'm brewing ruins."

Severus gazed at her with mild interest. "You have a laboratory?"

Abigail nodded. "I brew many of the more difficult potions for St. Mungo's," she said, a hint of pride permeating her voice.

"Really," Severus responded, duly impressed. Albus had told him that Abigail was quite talented, but he hadn't expected her to be on that level. He studied her carefully, his earlier distaste receding. At least he knew he would be in capable hands.

"Do you work for St. Mungo's directly?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows could rest on the table.

Abigail snorted and waved her hand in the air, like she was trying to shoo away a fly. "St Mungo's can't afford me. I'm strictly on retainer."

Snape's eyes widened slightly, the only emotion shown on his face. "Impressive," he said smoothly.

Abigail blushed prettily, unaccustomed to such praise. "Thank you," she answered quietly, all sarcastic comments gone for the moment.

"You're welcome. Now that we have squared away our business, I will take my leave of you. Expect me in about a fortnight," Severus stood, bowed and left.

Abigail exhaled a breath that she hadn't even known she was holding. She couldn't believe she was going to have to put up with that staying in her house. Still, he wasn't terribly bad-looking, she mused, then cast aside the thought.

Bad idea. Very bad idea.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the long interval! I own nothing.

Ghosts and Fire whiskey

Contrary to what Abigail believed, her life did not change with the arrival of Severus Snape. She still brewed her potions; she still tended to the plants in her garden; she still answered the queries from St. Mungo's that were owled to her with increasing (and alarming) regularity. The only change was that she seemed to have acquired a ghost. A dark, glowering ghost that haunted her steps once a week as she went about her daily business.

He never spoke to her. Since the day that they had discussed the "arrangement" he had been taciturn to the point of madness. Other than a slight incline of his head when he left (much the same as when he arrived), the only indication that he was there was the shadow he cast on the floor.

And his eyes.

His eyes followed her everywhere. Countless times Abigail had bungled a potion (she who had never bungled potions before), because she had been startled by his incessant need to watch her. Abigail found it disturbing and oddly enough, entrancing.

She was beginning to think of this "arrangement" as completely pointless. He didn't need her help, or her attentions. He could just as easily apparate outside of Hogwarts and stay in his rooms there. But something about her house calmed him.

The disturbing thought was that something about his presence calmed her as well.

It was two in the morning when things began to change between them. Abigail was awoken by the sound of her front door crashing open. Hastily grabbing her wand and throwing her glasses on, she ran into the hallway, only to be see Severus Snape leaning, pale-faced, against the wall.

"Merlin's beard, what happened to you! You look like hell," she said, a touch of concern overriding her sarcastic tone.

His black eyes flickered over her face briefly. There was a long gash on the side of his face and his skin, always pale, had acquired a deathly pallor that deeply concerned her. "On the contrary, I've never felt better." he answered bitingly.

Abigail crossed her arms over her chest and peered at him over the rim of her glasses. She couldn't help but admire the man for his apparent calm. But she had a job to do now, and she wasn't about to let bantering get in the way of that. "Tell me the circumstances," her voice acquired a clipped, professional quality to it.

"I was in the midst of an errand for the Dark Lord and unfortunately met the wrong end of an Auror's wand," he spoke, pain tingeing his words.

Shed nodded briskly, walked away just as briskly, retrieving a small vial from her potions cabinet. Handing it over to Snape, she spoke her instructions. "Drink all of that, and then I'm putting you in bed."

His eyebrow quirked upwards. "So eager?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. "Just drink it you ass, before you die and I have to be subjected to another one of Uncle Albus's guilt trips!"

Snape looked at the vial questioningly, then looked at Abigail. "Pray tell, what is this concoction of yours?"

She smiled sweetly and responded, "A healing potion."

"My healing potions are not...orange."

Abigail coughed uncomfortably and answered. "I doctored it a bit."

"A bit."

She was unnerved by his steady gaze and growing increasingly more impatient. "Yes, a bit. Now take the potion before you bleed to death all over my floor."

"Not until you tell me what is in it."

"TAKE. THE. DAMN. POTION."

Severus drew himself up to his full height, an impressive feat considering his injuries, and spoke. "Madam, I am a potions master. I do not obligingly quaff any liquid in which I do not have full disclosure of the ingredients. Either you give me the answer, or I _will_ bleed to death on your floor and _you_ can deal with Albus."

Abigail's blue eyes opened wide with shock. She wasn't used to anyone speaking to her in such a manner, much less not implicitly trusting her vast expertise as a healer. Sufficiently cowed, she mumbled the answer.

Severus shook the vial at her and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Fire whiskey."

"Fire whiskey."

"Dad likes it."

Snape didn't say anything for a long time, but his shoulders began to shake with barely suppressed laughter. "You mean to tell me you doctored a healing potion with fire whiskey."

"It was Old Ogden's!" she shot back.

Snape let loose with a loud bellow. Leaning forward, he wiped away the tears that were coursing freely down his face, all the while muttering "fire whiskey" under his breath.

Looking at Abigail with a glint of mirth in his eye, he downed the entire vial in one swallow. The wound on his face instantly closed and his pallor disappeared.

"Well?," she asked, her righteous indignation returning in droves.

Severus sprung away from the wall, his energy restored. "Well, what?," he responded.

Abigail angrily stalked towards him. "I believe an apology is in order┘Professor, " she spat.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Madam, whatever for? It is obvious it worked, or I would be dead by now."

She threw up her hands in exasperation and walked away towards the kitchen. "You are beyond impossible," she shot back.

Snape followed her, clearly enjoying having gained the upper hand.

"By the way, nice nightgown."

He ducked as a teacup sailed past his head.


End file.
